


The Plunge

by decembersiris



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: A Confession, Angst, But it's okay, EnjonineWeek2018, F/M, Grief, Love, Suicide Attempt, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, a little fall of rain prompt, and doesn't know how to handle it, please just read it, sad eponine is sad, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 01:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15718803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decembersiris/pseuds/decembersiris
Summary: Anything was better than what Eponine was feeling... She had been fighting for so long... It was time now, wasn't it? At least, now, Enjolras might understand.





	The Plunge

The winter wind blew passed her, whipping her ebony tresses back, stinging her eyes, and pricking her skin to rise at the hairs against the bitter frost. Éponine shuddered, holding herself as she stood on the bridge above the Seine, staring down at the deep cerulean water. Lantern lights dotted the shoreline, the orange glows that reminded her of fractured fireflies. She’d always hated the cold, even as a child, seeking the warmth of a newly lit fire that was always waiting for her back at the inn in Montfermeil, but here, in Paris, there was no cozy home for her to return to. No, here was nothing but the neglectful walls of the Gorbeau House and the bitter, merciless city streets.

She looked up, her eyes glancing across the star-dusted midnight sky, spying the clouds slowly creeping above her, finding herself thinking of nothing. She was eerily calm, unnaturally so despite the circumstances that brought her here. Her family was gone, her mother buried nearly a year ago, her father and Azelma abandoning her for a life of slave traders, and she and Gavroche were estranged to say the least. And Marius, dear, sweet Marius, was marrying Cosette. And oddly, that did not bother her as much as she thought it would. What bothered her now was the acuteness of her ears that picked up the sound of Enjolras’s footsteps, as if she were anxious to hear them, to know that he had come as she asked.

“Éppie?”

His voice awakened her heart, a strike of lightening and a crack of thunder, and for a moment, she swore the sky had opened up to spite her. And yet, suddenly she had forgotten the cold. She turned to look at him. He had dressed himself in warm clothing, darker colors appropriate for the season. The wind had tossed his angelic curls, the cold kissing his skin white, and the frown on his face revealed his obvious distaste for their meeting place.

Éponine stood with her back to the river, and Enjolras stared at her, studying her expression. A small smile curled at the corners of her lips but it was not one of excitement, relief, or happiness. No, there was a faint glimmer of sadness in her eyes, there in the lamp lit reflection that she did not even try to blink away. But before he could question it, the wind blew hard again, and he wrapped his arms about himself, wondering how she could stand so still against cold. She hated the cold.

“Come, Éponine, let’s talk elsewhere,” he said.

She ignored him, glancing up at the sky again, watching as the stars slowly disappeared, that smile still holding. He frowned. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of this, her silence, her smile, this meeting place, asking him to come to her on a bridge in the middle of a cold night.

“I did not have much hope moving here to Paris.” Éponine said as she leaned against the stone railing. “None at all, actually. A change of scenery did not change my family’s situation as my father thought it would. We were poor no matter where we went, and that truth put a strain on us. They changed, I changed, and loving them was difficult.”

Enjolras stood, taking in her words, watching her lips as they moved to form her carefully chosen words. Her eyes turned to rest on his, the sadness ever-present.

“After meeting Marius,” she went on, “he was the first person to look at me with more than just disgust or pity. He saw me as a person, not as some common gamine as the rest of Paris saw me, and not as a tool for financial gain for my mother and father. He was kind to me. And I think that is why I fell in love with him. From the very first meeting, I desperately sought a place in his heart.”

Enjolras watched as she closed her eyes, her chuckle somber. She wrapped her arms about herself, opening her eyes again to look down at her feet. He wanted to move to her, to comfort her in some way. But she would shrug him away, step farther away from him and tell him “no”, because there was no place in her heart for him.

He watched as her throat worked, blinking before slowly looking back up at him. “After he met Cosette,” Melancholy lived in her eyes, “I was devastated. All that I had hoped for with Marius vanished like smoke. He stopped seeing me. I don’t know if he ever truly saw me. But I could not let him go. I felt that if I could not be his woman, then, at least, I could stay at his side as a friend. I could still matter.”

His lips parted, his lungs whispering words that his mouth dared not utter, his mind screaming “coward”.

She bit her lip. “I clung to that hope. I convinced myself I could live with it. After my mother’s passing and my family’s deterioration, I was so lonely. Marius was all I had, and because of that, I refused to abandon my love for him. The thought of letting that go—it was like I was betraying him somehow, and myself. Who was I if I did not love Marius?”

Enjolras remained quiet, his body heavy with her confession. His mind erased all thoughts of the cold, taking in nothing but her solemn voice and lamenting expression while his heart absorbed her words.

“But time went on, and Marius disappeared.” Her voice cracked and quivered. She lifted her head to the sky, taking a moment to compose herself. “I thought he would send for me, or at least write or visit, but he didn’t. I thought I was fading away.”

She paused, biting her lip again before returning her gaze to him. “But then there was you.”

Enjolras’s heart thudded, blood heating his skin. So, he did mean something to her. But Marius’s hold on her heart was far greater. He knew it. She had said it herself. And so he held his indifferent expression as she continued.

“You were more than just kind. You cared. And the guilt I felt for happiness without Marius was unbearable. Then I heard the news of Marius and Cosette’s wedding. I didn’t want to believe it, but it truly became clear to me that there hadn’t been a place for me at Marius’s side for a long time. I tried to ignore it, but something in me changed too, something I did not believe I was capable of.”

The clouds had completely overwhelmed the sky now, and a clasp of thunder shuddered through the night. Éponine smiled weakly, dropping her arms to her side.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t keep going.” She lifted herself up onto the railing.

The world slowed for them both.

“I’m alone. It’s so tiring,” she breathed.

“No wait!”

His mouth was faster than his feet, and he felt his organs drop and blood drain from his body as he watched her tilt back up and over the railing. Terror seized him, and he sprinted to the railing. Like instinct, he did not hesitate as he jumped after her.

Her hair whipped her face, and her arms floated gently beside her as the air pushed against and passed her as she fell. The cold overwhelmed her body and the frostbitten air burned her eyes, blurring her vision. And in her fall, she watched in horror and surprise as Enjolras’s hazed form leaped head first from the bridge, his arm outstretched to reach for her. “No…” she thought, her heartbeat slowing, and as she descended she felt a drop of rain sting her cheek.

The splash into the water was like a sharp smack against stone, the water like canon fire to her back and the air exploded from her lungs. Her bones froze, immobilizing her as she felt herself sink, the bubbles wafting and wading around her, disrupting the black of the water. Enjolras’s dark form emerged through the dissipating bubbles, wrapping his arms around her, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder. He held her tight, lifting her up as he kicked for the surface, but her lungs were burning, her mouth begging to open, and she lost all feeling in her body.

Enjolras broke through the water’s surface, gasping for air, with Éponine in his arm. Éponine, her head lolled to the side, sucked in a breath, her eyes half lidded and too weak to help Enjolras swim for the shoreline. Frozen to the core, Enjolras brought her to the shore, the pair struggling to stand, too numb to shiver, skin pale and lips blue. They took shelter beneath the bridge, hiding themselves from the rain, a steady, heavy pounding that had now descended upon Paris,

“You idiot!” Enjolras’s voice was a constricted to a sharp whisper, “You could have killed us both! What were you thinking?”

Immediately, Enjolras began peeling away his clothing, leaving his upper half bare. He wanted to glower, to reprimand her further for her careless actions, but the sight of her unable to move, to hardly open her eyes and such labored breathing, he quieted himself as grief and fear entered his mind. Éponine did not move as she lay on the grassy shore. She watched him, her chest heaving up and down, and she thought she felt her body warm as he placed his hands on her, asking for permission. She nodded feebly, and he quickly went to remove her clothing as well.

The golden ringlets upon his head clung to the sides of his face. His expression was stern, and Éponine saw the concern despite his hard brow. He was so white now, ghostly so against his dark, dark lips. Her eyes stung her, tears leaving smoldering tracks on her cheeks.

“You fool,” she whispered.

Enjolras looked at her, his frown mixing with slight confusion.

“Putting yourself in harm’s way… For me...” She shifted, reaching out to him, her hand shaking as she gently caressed his cheek.

Sitting up, she leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, unable to hold back as she wept. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, their bodies feeding warmth into each other, until he pulled away and looked into her eyes. He smiled lightly at her, a look of comfort, of sincerity in his eyes. He kissed her forehead first and then her eyelid and then the corner of her lips. He leaned down and kissed her lips as she pulled him tighter to her, pulling him with her down to lay on the shore beneath the bridge as rain pattered all around them.

_I don’t have a place with Marius…_

His fingers roamed her bare skin, her breasts, her ribs, her abdomen, her naval. They sighed, each breath warming their frost kissed bodies, each touch and kiss stoking flames Éponine thought nothing more than dying embers. Enjolras kissed her neck, her collarbone, sighing as she racked her fingers through his damp hair.

_But I do have a place in this man’s heart…_

Enjolras moved his hand up, tracing lines with his fingertips up her body, her breast her shoulder, across her arm, and her wrist until her fingers laced with hers.

_And perhaps, one day…_

Lying on top of her, Enjolras kissed her, pressed into her as she held his body to her despite his crushing weight. Her heart pounded with each kiss, each tender touch awakening it to life, a new fire that now felt she’d never let die.

_I can be enough for him._


End file.
